


Cascade

by imperfectkreis



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Come Eating, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:22:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9076312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectkreis/pseuds/imperfectkreis
Summary: Corvo never asks. The Outsider never offers.





	

“Do you feel it, even now?” Corvo kisses against the silvery line at the Outsider’s throat, where millennia ago, he was slit from ear to ear. The collar of his coat normally hides the wire-thin scar. That, or those he communes with fail to look for traces of rupture along his skin. But Corvo always sees. Noticing the line, doting on it.

Then again, he is the only one to witness the Outsider like this.

The Outsider leans back against Corvo’s chest, his rough hair scraping into the Outsider’s skin, thick arms wrapped around his waist. The Outsider tries to relax his shoulders, his spine, melting against the warm, pliant body propped up behind him.

Corvo’s private quarters in the Tower are quiet in the dead of night. The heavy blanket of darkness wrapped around them. A shroud about their shoulders.

Rain falls against the windows. It has been six weeks since Delilah has been dealt with. 

This time, the Outsider could not part from Corvo so easily. Not like after the Rat Plague. Vanishing into the deep reaches of the Void, waiting for Corvo to pay tribute of his own volition, fall to his knees and beg for the Outsider’s favor at his shrine. 

That would never come to pass. Corvo is too proud to kneel to a god he knows is real.

So the Outsider worships instead, taking Corvo’s mangled hand between both of his, kissing against each fingertip, touching his tongue against salt-tinged skin. Corvo tightens his other arm around the Outsider’s waist, keeping their bodies flush together.

“Every moment I exist, I'm reminded,” the Outsider admits. 

When he closes his eyes, focusing on Corvo’s touch, his smell, the pattern of his breathing, the Outsider sees the Void. An open, cloudless sky, full of beautiful beasts, floating across the expanse, calling for to him to come home. He doesn't belong with a human’s mortal flesh pressed tightly against his fragile body. “Not anymore,” the leviathans warn, “Never again, little one.”

When he opens his eyes, he stares into Corvo’s neatly packed shelves, filled with books he never reads.

“I'm sorry,” Corvo apologizes for actions that transpired generations before his birth. In any case, the Outsider is not sorry. This is better. Lonely, and dark, but better.

Cocking his head to one side, the Outsider leaves his throat bare for Corvo’s mouth, waiting for the warm flush of tongue and teeth against skin to resume. He feels Corvo grow hard behind him, his cock pressing incessantly into the small of the Outsider’s back.

The sheets are rucked up around their hips, concealing very little but giving the illusion of modesty. The Outsider cares nothing for appearances, but the thin cotton covering them seems to provide Corvo with needed comfort.

“How long do you have?” Corvo asks.

The answer is something akin to forever. But the Outsider never stays too long. Never tries to intrude too violently in Corvo’s life. That scattering of people and events that confirms, irrevocably, that Corvo is alive. 

And the Outsider is only something like the living. A shadow. A ghost. Godhood tastes like spun sugar, sweet, but always already dissolving. Yes, there is always more, endlessly more. But the texture is never quite the same.

“I can leave at dawn,” the Outsider grabs Corvo’s wrist, trying to shove his hand down towards his straining cock. He wants to be touched, in the deft, beautiful way only Corvo can touch him. Calloused fingers and firm strokes, dragging the Outsider towards his breaking point. Giving him, now, that which he has never had before.

A lover.

How funny.

Corvo does not ask him to linger longer than the breaking daylight, though his fist tightens around the Outsider’s shaft, running his thumb along the head, collecting precum on the pad of his finger, smearing it down the length.

The Outsider arches his back, rolling his hips forward into the thrust of Corvo’s hand, trying to chase after his orgasm, find the release he so desperately wants. But he only wants it because this is the gift Corvo can give, what only Corvo can provide. Safe hands, warm mouth, comforts the Outsider never knew.

Without warning, Corvo tips them forward. The Outsider quickly shoots his hands out, catching himself before falling face first into the mattress. He fists his hands in the sheets, and Corvo blankets his broader body over top of his. Working his hand just as fast as before, Corvo whispers into the Outsider’s ear a litany of lies.

Corvo only lies so well, because he thinks each word true.

But they can't be. 

“I love you.”

They can't be true.

The heat coiling in the Outsider’s belly constricts and fades, bursting into brightness, a shifting in between phases of existence and emptiness. 

The Outsider wonders, not for the first time, if there was a prophecy about Corvo Attano, gone unattended by the once-devoted, as the Abby snuffed out the remnants of belief, year by year. Decade by decade.

The Outsider wonders, if, maybe, Corvo was the one meant to be the end of him, to bring the kingdom of the Void crashing down. Because in Corvo’s arms, sharing breaths, the Outsider feels the tendrils of ruin, coiling in his hair, around his limbs, as Corvo flips him onto his back, spreading his thighs wide.

Corvo dips his head, licking away the cum clinging to the Outsider’s stomach, scraping against his hipbone with vicious teeth. Dragging his body over the Outsider’s, he pushes their cocks side by side, wrapping his hand around them both. The Outsider reaches between their bodies, brushing his fingers against Corvo’s as he starts to stroke.

Outside, the rain picks up, a constant patter against the glass. They break the rhythm of the water, echoing each other with lingering pants of want and need and too much, not enough.

The Outsider gets hard a second time. And when he comes, it's on the verge of painful, ravaged by the heat of Corvo’s body against his own. Corvo kisses him. He tends to a garden that cannot bloom. The Outsider was dug up by his roots, long ago. Corvo smiles into the crook of the Outsider's neck, repeating, “I love you.” 

But never, “Stay.” 

Because while Corvo Attano may be accustomed to the impossible, he never demands more than he feels he's worth.

The Outsider wishes he would.

Corvo tugs at the Outsider’s shoulder, trying to wrap him comfortably in his arms. He reaches down to grab the sheet, pulling it loosely over their tired bodies.

“I'll be gone by the time you wake,” the Outsider promises. Even now, as his eyelids droop, he feels the Void coming up to meet him, to swallow him back down. All his limbs feel like lead, like anchors, dragging him to the bottom, where he belongs. He isn't meant for Corvo’s bed, its warmth and comfort.

“You're never really gone,” Corvo kisses into the Outsider’s hair, dancing his fingers along his side. 

“No, I suppose I'm not,” the Outsider admits.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always very much appreciated! Sorry this is so short and has basically no plot.
> 
> I'm currently working on another, longer Corvosider piece. But it is giving me some trouble because Corvo is quite a bit younger than in the games, so I'm struggling with his voice. I wrote this as a bit of a distraction.
> 
> I still hope you enjoyed!
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](Imperfectkreis.tumblr.com)


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